Song of songs 8

1 O that thou wert as my brother,
That sucked the breasts of my mother!
When I should find thee without, I would kiss thee;
Yea, I should not be despised.
2 I would lead thee,
And bring thee into my mother's house,
Who would instruct me:
I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine
Of the juice of my pomegranate.
3 His left hand should be under my head,
And his right hand should embrace me.
4 I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
That ye stir not up, nor awake my love,
Until he please.

5 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness,
Leaning upon her beloved?

I raised thee up under the apple tree:
There thy mother brought thee forth:
There she brought thee forth that bare thee.

6 Set me as a seal upon thine heart,
As a seal upon thine arm:
For love is strong as death;
Jealousy is cruel as the grave:
The coals thereof are coals of fire,
Which hath a most vehement flame.
7 Many waters cannot quench love,
Neither can the floods drown it:
If a man would give all the substance of his house for love,
It would utterly be contemned.

8 We have a little sister,
And she hath no breasts:
What shall we do for our sister
In the day when she shall be spoken for?
9 If she be a wall,
We will build upon her a palace of silver:
And if she be a door,
We will inclose her with boards of cedar.
10 I am a wall,
And my breasts like towers:
Then was I in his eyes
As one that found favour.

11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baalhamon;
He let out the vineyard unto keepers;
Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand pieces of silver.
12 My vineyard, which is mine, is before me:
Thou, O Solomon, must have a thousand,
And those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.

13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens,
The companions hearken to thy voice:
Cause me to hear it.

14 Make haste, my beloved,
And be thou like to a roe
Or to a young hart
Upon the mountains of spices.
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